


Pushing It

by shinychimera



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 100-1000 Words, Breathplay, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-19
Updated: 2009-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinychimera/pseuds/shinychimera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was really going on with Kirk when Spock was throttling him on the bridge?  Is there room for erotic asphyxiation during a crisis?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing It

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Accidental breath-play, so technically non-con; erotic but without actual sex.  
> **Disclaimers:** We do not own any of these characters.

He's pushing it. He knows he's pushing it, he _means_ to push the black rage he can see in the back of Spock's eyes right out in the open where the whole command crew can see it. Not just him. And Jim realizes its only because he knows exactly what he's looking for that _he_ sees the buried anger, the emotion.

What he doesn't know is whether or not he can handle the explosion.

But that's never stopped him before.

Scott steps back away from the two of them, feeling the same power Jim feels, the electricity building between storm clouds in an Iowa sky and the fields below, just before the lightning breaks.

"I'd rather not take sides," he says, though his eyes never leave Spock's face. And Jim knows that the engineer is starting to see where the danger really lies, which means his plan to hit the damn cold-blooded Vulcan where it hurts is working. Even the three Security cadet-staff have taken a step back, unsure how to handle this new exhibit of insubordination.

He has a moment of doubt. _You'd better be right about yourself, Spock,_ he thinks, _or I'll be lucky to be court-martialled instead of air-locked._ But it passes quickly, and remembering what the older Spock shared with him gives him the answer he needs. He knows what he's about to do is hitting below the belt, but he doesn't have the time to be fair.

Jim Kirk knows all kinds of ways to start a fight; he's used them all, one time or another. And the fastest way to start a brawl is to insult a guy's mother—or impugn his feelings for her.

"Tell me, Spock," he says, right up in the captain's face, "What is it like not to feel anger. Or heartbreak. Or the need to stop at _nothing_ to avenge the woman who gave birth to you?"

He watches Spock's eyes closely, barely hearing the man warn him off.

"You feel _nothing_. It must not even compute for you. You _never_ loved her--"

He's not surprised, exactly, when the insult tips the scales and Spock lunges for him, but he'd forgotten that the heavier pull of Vulcan's gravity gives Spock exceptional strength and speed in the more Earth-like environment of the _Enterprise_. His blows are shockingly hard and heavy, blasts of pain on top of the punishment Jim's already taken today, and it's all he can do to keep his arms up and his feet underneath him. Spock's black rage drives them both across the bridge, but Jim doesn't strike back even when he's cornered and Spock slams him back against the navigation console, although the adrenaline and testosterone sear through his body in sweet, dependable fight-or-flight reaction. Spock's left hand closes on his throat like solid rock, and his head is instantly congested as the blood pounds against the constricted arteries. Jim tries to gasp shallowly but it's already too late. Spock steps forward to apply more pressure, his lips peeled back in a silent snarl. No one else on the bridge makes a sound.

Jim's hands are up, pulling at Spock's arm feebly, but this isn't the first time someone's had him in a choke hold, and his head's dropping back involuntarily not because his vision's starting to darken a bit around the edges but because the blood is rushing to his cock. He'd laugh if he could, because he can see his own death in Spock's dark eyes and he's getting off on it.

Distantly, above the roaring in his ears, Jim hears Ambassador Sarek shout his son's name, but the fingers continue to dig remorselessly into his throat. Spock steps forward slightly and his thigh brushes Jim's erection. The muscles in his face never move, give nothing away, but even through the haze of red that's starting to overwhelm Jim's vision he can see some of the rage go; Spock's eyes are a turbulent mirror, full of contradictory emotion. The hand on his throat doesn't ease its grip but Jim knows that the second brush of Spock's thigh against his erection is not an accident. He's not sure the first one was, either, but if Spock doesn't let go soon he's not going to have a chance to find out and still he can't shut off the erotic terror running through him. Death presses hard against his body, silencing thought, stifling everything except sensation: his relentless pulse beats on and on with pain and pleasure, throbbing with the adamant demand to _live!_

No such thing as the no-win situation. He's harder than he's ever been, and takes the only option left -- he cheats, lifting his hips beneath Spock, forcing their cocks together in a fiery rejection of oblivion, even as the world dwindles to pinpoints of screaming light.

And then the darkness is rushing away, and the almost-orgasm goes with it. He's rasping, retching, shuddering helplessly, overwhelmed, and his whole body feels like it's gasping. Spock retreats, his voice control shaky. "...emotionally compromised..." he says.

_No shit,_ Jim thinks. He wishes he was anywhere else, anywhere alone. He feels acutely exposed, desperate to fight, or to fuck, or to fly, but he forces himself to stand, forces himself to regain control of his breathing, headily aware of his crew watching. _His crew._

He collapses into the captain's chair but can't even rub at the purpling finger-shaped marks he knows Spock left on his throat. Uhura runs after the Vulcan; Spock barely looks at her as he steps into the lift, instead glancing back at Jim with a look that says quite clearly, _I know what you're about now. I_ own _you._

Jim will make damn sure they discuss that later, too.

Right now, he has a planet to save.


End file.
